The Gasman gasped and dropped the pie, which splattered all over the floor. None of us even flinched. “What?” he said again.
“Look,” I choked out, and he and Nudge hurried over to the bed. I watched as they read this Mazin Nourahmed person’s comment and studied the photo.
“Trap?” Nudge asked immediately. That’s my girl.
“Maybe,” I replied. Then I regretfully added: “Probably.”
“Do we care?” That was Gazzy. I knew how much he wanted to see his little sister again—under any circumstances.
Fang and I glanced at each other, then answered at the same time: “No.”
The four of us sat there for a few more moments, just letting the news sink in.
Then Gazzy hollered, “Iggy! Dylan! Fang’s room! Now!”
“Oh, my God!” Nudge yelled, bouncing on her heels in excitement. “Oh, my God, Angel!”
“Did I hear ‘Angel’?” Dylan asked, poking his head around the door.
“What?” Iggy demanded, coming on Dylan’s heels and skidding to a stop in the hallway.
Gazzy read the blog comment aloud. As before, we were all quiet for a bit as Iggy and Dylan processed the information.
And then—without any warning—we all leaped up, screaming and yelling and hugging until our voices and arms gave out. Nudge was sobbing; Gazzy kept chanting “My sister’s alive! My sister’s alive!” over and over; Iggy was laughing maniacally; Dylan stayed next to me, grinning, while I acted like my usual stoic, leaderly self (read: sobbing just as hard as Nudge). And in the middle of all of us, Fang was smiling with an abandon that I’d never seen him show before.
For the first time in my life, I saw tears in Fang’s eyes.
He squeezed my hand, and I knew right then that regardless of traps, regardless of risks, everything was going to be all right. The flock was about to be complete again.
Our baby was coming home.
50
THE VERY NEXT morning, all six of us—Gazzy, Nudge, Iggy, Fang, Dylan, and I—got up bright and early to leave on the first rescue mission in… how many months? Three? Four? Man, that might have been the longest period of time without a rescue since Jeb had whisked us away from the School. Impressive.
We didn’t bother telling the principal or teachers at Newton the small, insignificant fact that their precious bird kids were leaving on an impromptu trip to California, possibly never to return. After all, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: We’ve spent our entire, unglamorous lives not being controlled by grown-ups. Why start now?
“Okeydokey,” I said to myself, stuffing another bag of beef jerky into a backpack. “Provisions, check. Clothes, check. Enough explosives to pose a legitimate threat to multiple small countries”—I eyed the duffel bags that Gazzy and Iggy had packed—“check. Destination”—I glanced at the printed-out sheet with a marked map, courtesy of Mazin Nourahmed the Helpful (and Possibly Evil?) Blog Commenter—“check.”
Six backpacks were laid out before me, for six bird kids. Usually I’d have to pack one for Total, too, but following my recommendation, he’d agreed to stay behind for this one. I’d arranged for him to stay with Akila. If this mission didn’t go well, I didn’t want his canine ladyfriend to end up a widow.
“Ready?” Fang asked, sliding his arms through the straps of his backpack and giving me a warm, excited, anxious look—a look that betrayed way more emotion than I was used to seeing Fang
display.
“Yup. Let’s bust this joint,” I said. Nudge and Gazzy exchanged smiles—we all had the same feeling about this mission. Just like old times.
Except, of course, this wasn’t old times, or just any mission. It was Angel. And it was probably a trap. And even if we did somehow manage to find her, she might not be as okay as we were all desperately hoping she was. A lot can happen to a seven-year-old girl all alone at a School.
I let out a long breath, my hands shaking as I fumbled with my bag’s zipper. Stay positive. She is alive.
“It’s okay,” said a familiar voice beside me. Dylan. “We’ll find her.”
I turned to face him. He looked serious and sincere. A lump suddenly formed in my throat, and I wanted to hug him. But Fang was right behind me, so I just nodded, knowing that Dylan understood, and praying hard that he was right.
I hoisted my backpack into the proper position for flight, looking over my shoulder at Fang as I did so. We exchanged a brief look, I did a silent head count, and then he said, “Okay! Everybody ready?”
“Ready!” the flock shouted in unison. Then, with Fang leading the way, we all kicked off the ground and soared into the bright blue sky.